Grixis Falls
by Dismal Evans
Summary: Post GoF. Something wicked this way comes for Harry Potter. And it just may succeed where Voldemort has failed time and time again, but first it will take everything from him.


**I do not own Harry Potter and I never will.**

**-----**

**Grixis Falls**

**-----**

-----

**Chapter I**

-----

'Twas the blackest of nights, the wind howled and an unseasonal rain fell in a hard and steady current.

The small town of Little Whinging, Surrey seemed to be at the center of this gathering darkness. There was no electricity to be found in Little Whinging this night for the power had been lost. Earlier a man had let the storm get the best of him, crashing into and knocking over a utility pole with his truck.

So the inhabitants of most of this little town had gone off to bed, for it was nearing midnight.

Harry Potter was one of the few who happened to be still awake.

A warm flickering glow emanated from his small bedroom, that being the light of a lone candle. Harry was awaiting twelve o' clock at which point he would be fifteen years old. With a sigh born of boredom Harry dropped his golden pocket watch to the bed sheets.

For some reason the last twenty or so minutes of this particular day seemed to drag on much longer than necessary each year. Shuffling to his battered school trunk he shifted through the mounds of old clothes that were far too large and many textbooks of a magical variety

He came up with his photo album, one of his most sacred treasures. It was filled to the metaphorical brim with pictures of his parents. He always felt joy as he looked through these pages. But it took only a moment for Harry to notice something strange about the pictures today.

They were not moving. Normally wizarding pictures moved. The people captured in them smiling and waving at those who looked. But tonight his parents stared back at him, frozen in time. At first they still smiled, but as he flipped the pages their smiles descended and eventually all form of happiness was lost, only expressions of horror remained.

The bespectacled Potter nearly dropped the album in shock, how had this happened? The album had been perfectly fine the day before. And while he was sure that in the many forms magic took there must be some way to meddle with photographs, he could not think of anyone who had access to his trunk that would have done this.

He kept flipping the pages in dread fascination, even still he nearly had to force himself to turn the last page, on the left side his parents were no longer in the pictures, all the was left was an eerie grey fog.

On the right hand side two words were written out with a large loopy script in black ink; 'Grixis Falls' confusion settled on the green-eyed young man. The words had no meaning to him and what had happened to the photos did not tell him anything either.

He snapped the album shut and tossed it back into his trunk with shaky hands. Somehow he imagined his scar would burst open and Lord Voldemort himself would materialize out of nowhere, ready to bring himself peace from a young boy who refused to die, with the simple flash of a green curse. And Harry thought to himself snidely '_Wouldn't that be justice.' _

Nothing happened. The only sounds that of the howling wind, the pattering rain, the ticking watch and a quiet coo from the cage atop his wardrobe. He didn't want to send Hedwig out in this weather, even though he knew a few adult wizards who would like to know of such a strange occurrence.

Sirius would probably drop everything and be there in a second. Even though he was a wanted criminal Harry figured no one would be coming to find him here in such a storm. However the fact remained that very same storm prevented any communication.

Something strange was definitely going on though. So Harry grabbed his wand from his night stand, gathering the candle holder into the other hand. With a turn and a pull the door creaked open, Harry standing to the side, wand at the ready.

Perhaps the last few years had impounded a bit of paranoia into him, but at the moment that did not seem a bad thing. Thankfully there was nothing unusual in the hall. He was happy to hear the muffled snores of both his Uncle and his cousin.

Then, the rustlings and scraping from the floor below reached his ears. Was there someone down there? Waiting for Harry to descend the stairs before slaughtering him in the most horrible way possible?

Most likely not, for all he knew it was mice sheltering from the rain.

But he decided for his own piece of mind that he would check it out, descending the stairs quickly but quietly reaching the bottom in seconds. Shining the light of the candle around the family room and the kitchen he found nothing out of the ordinary.

He sighed in relief, but there was the sound again, coming from the cupboard which had served as his bedroom for the first ten years of his life. Suddenly annoyed at his own fears and convinced it really was just mice, Harry yanked open the cupboard door. And once again found nothing.

In fact he'd probably just imagined his album being like that earlier. Of course that was it; he'd climb back up the stairs crawl into bed and wait for midnight before drifting off to sleep. He'd made it all the way to his room and nearly lain down before he realized what was wrong.

When he'd passed through the hall he'd no longer heard the snores of his relatives. With anyone else he would put it off as rolling over in their sleep or some such thing. With Dudley and Uncle Vernon on the other hand, they _always_ snored, always had an always would.

'_Come on Harry' _he thought to himself,_' you must've just imagined it'._ But he knew he hadn't and soon found his feet carrying him back out into the hall. The doors to his relatives' rooms were wide open, like gaping dark maws waiting to devour him.

His hand gripped tight to his holly wand, knuckles white. He went to his Aunt and Uncle's room first for it was closer. It was empty. Absolutely empty, no sign of his relatives or the personal possessions including their expensive bedroom furniture.

Fear was gripping his heart again; things were spiraling out of hand. But he could not stop himself from checking for his cousin. His skin felt clammy as he walked to the room at the end of the hall, stepping through the wide doorway.

He almost cried out in relief finding it empty too, he would've been happier to find it normal, with Dudley laying there snoring away. But this was better than finding a cold dead corpse. Just when he meant to leave the room he heard a strange noise from the closet to his right.

He couldn't leave without looking inside, so naturally he found himself opening the closet. Dudley was there, curled up in a ball in the corner of the closet, whimpering to himself. "Dudley," Harry whispered "What happened to you?"

Dudley looked up quickly his face a mask of terror, which soon changed to utter relief at the sight of skinny Harry Potter the boy he'd tormented throughout their entire childhood. "H-Harry, that _thing, _it took Mum and Dad, I-I hid, there was nothing I could do right?"

"What thing Dudley? What was it that took them?" asked Harry in an urgent whisper, but it did not seem Dudley could speak anymore, he just shook his head squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Stay here alright? I'm going to check downstairs again and I'll be back as soon as I can."

It felt strange trying to soothe Dudley, but right now it seemed all he could do. Closing the closet door tight he decided that Dudley's life might depend on his use of magic, and he wouldn't let his cousin die because he was afraid of the Ministry of Magic.

"_Colloportus," _he whispered as a blue light shot from his wand and wrapped itself around the door before fading. It was the only locking spell he knew and he hoped it would be enough. As he neared the steps for a second time that night he not only saw, but felt a strange black light coming from the family room.

As he made his way down he found the candle would not penetrate into that black light, a light that he could not see through. He was unsure why he even thought of it as a light when usually darkness was the absence of light, but he knew that was what it was.

There was a strange scrapping noise of metal against metal before a low growl. The smell hit Harry like nothing ever had before, the smell of death, of blood, of absolute gore. He didn't know it, but it very well could be the last time he ever smelled anything again.

Harry had been said to have a 'saving people thing' and though they had never treated him very well, if there was even a chance one of them was alive he could not abandon his aunt and uncle and so he plunged onward into the darkness, his candle now worthless.

There was low shuddering breathing that seemed to be coming from every direction. In a last desperate attempt at sight, Harry lit the tip of his wand with a word. He instantly wished he hadn't.

The blood was everywhere, but that was not what made him gasp and drop both his wand and the candle. It was that _thing, _that _creature_, that horrible _monstrosity_. More than anything he wished it was not there, it wasn't possible, it couldn't be real.

'_No, no, NO, NO, NO!' _Harry's mind screamed at him, barely registering the inhuman roar as in an instant the breath was being choked out of him by long gnarled fingers, all energy seemed to be drained from his body he could not struggle.

As consciousness slipped away and his mind went blank, Harry's last thoughts were of hanging corpses, hanging corpses and blood.

-----


End file.
